Belief
by Jacksaw
Summary: It's been three hundred years since he last saw her. At least. But she'll pop up again, like she always does. (Post RotG)


**Honestly, I can't figure out why this is my first Jarida fic on this thing. I mean, I love that pairing. **

* * *

><p>He's still looking for her.<p>

Its been over a three hundred years since he last saw her. But he knows that she'll pop up again, like she always does. That girl will never stay down.

He leaps from one roof to the other, summoning the wind to help him span the gap.

* * *

><p><em>"Block, Jack, block!"<em>

_He just grins, and continues to back away._

_"Are you a sissy or what?"_

_'I'm going to say," he starts, then leaps forward, slamming into her, and quickly pining her before she has time to block or roll out of the way. "I'm a what."_

_She struggles a bit, then finally gives up, relaxing and spreading her arms wide. She laughs. "Hello, What."_

* * *

><p>She's not here. He thought she had seen someone with her hair last time around.<p>

Jack swings back up from peering upside through the window. It's a force of habit; he knows he can just drop down and it wouldn't hurt him at all.

He sighs, and races to find the other house he thought he had seen her.

* * *

><p><em>"Hey, hey, wait up!"<em>

_"Come on! I thought you were the fast one!" _

_"Yeah, you're not wearing a fucking hoop dress."_

_"I doubt it would look nearly as awkward on me, than it does on you."_

_"I'm plenty a lady."_

_"Yeah, sure."_

_"Jackass."_

_"Duh."_

* * *

><p>Nope. Not here either. Next house.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"Are they really going to lope of everyone's head?"<em>

_"I wouldn't put it that way, but yeah. That's what we're doing. Just like you always wanted."_

_"Yeah."_

_"What's wrong? You aren't yelling like a hooligan today."_

_"I do not yell like a hooligan."_

_"Thank you for proving my point."_

_"It's just that, Jack, I'm scared."_

_"But this is all what you've always wanted! You should be thrilled!"_

_"I know. This is so _wrong. _I should be celebrating, not cowering in a back alley."_

_"It'll be okay."_

_"Yeah, but you can't tell anyone about this. No one must know I'm scared. They won't let me join the revolutionaries then."_

_"I promise, no one else will know about this."_

_"Thanks Jack."_

_"But it's okay to be scared sometimes. No one's that brave."_

* * *

><p>And the search goes on.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"Jack! Jack!"<em>

_He is falling, falling through the ice, falling into the murky depths. _

_"Oh god, no!"_

_He is drowning._

_There is no sound underwater. Everything is muted, and the light is reflected fractured, shining like crystals. He is floating weightless, drifting in the water. Funny. Shouldn't your soul leave your body after you die?_

_"Wake."_

_He doesn't know that voice._

_"Wake up!"_

_His eyes fly open, and he is dragged upwards, shattering the ice. He hangs in the air for a while, almost blinded in the moonlight._

_"Wha―wha?" He breathes. His breath doesn't steam. Shit._

_"Look down." The voice commands._

_He does, and the first thing he notices is that the ice is sealed again. The second thing he notices is there's a troop of people by the lakeside, holding candles. It's a candlelight vigil, he realizes._

_"What's going on down there? Who's dead?"_

_"Your name is Jack Frost." The voice says stoically._

_"Seriously. Who's dead?"_

_"Your name is Jack Frost."_

_"Yeah, yeah, I get that, but what's going on?"_

_"Your name is Jack Frost."_

_He gives up, and goes on watching the villagers below. A woman is in the lead, followed by two girls. _

_He swears the taller one looks up, right at him._

* * *

><p>It's her. He's finally found her.<p>

He clambers in through the open window, keeping his eyes focused on her distinctive red hair. "Meri!" He yells joyfully, waving his arms in her face.

She turns his way, and he feels a jolt of happiness.

"Why is the window open?" she asks.

"I had to―" he begins, but she turns back to her friends by the table. Her mother shrugs.

"I'll go close it."

She gets up, and walks straight at him. He doesn't move, and she walks straight through him.

_She cannot see him._

_Merida Dunbroch can't see him._


End file.
